Witfit Prompts
by ms-ambrosia
Summary: A series of drabbles, one-shots, and ideas based upon Fictionista's Witfit prompts.
1. routine

In an effort to get over the writer's block that has been plaguing me for months, I thought I'd give the witfit prompts a try. No beta and no guarantee on quality; I'm just trying to get back into writing everyday.

SM owns Twilight.

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><p><em>Jealous of the Moon<em>

_Prompt: routine_

Watching her from across the room, Edward grimaces as he drinks the last of his whiskey, wondering why he came here to begin with. He feels out of place, standing in the corner of the room, smiling politely and nodding his head in greeting towards the people that pass him by. She asked for his support but has been too busy to even acknowledge his presence. So he watches her from afar.

She looks like the picture perfect bride-to-be, celebrating her engagement to a man she loves, a man that dotes on her and treats her like a princess. To everyone, she looks happy as she smiles and drinks her champagne. Her hair is pulled back in a severe-looking knot at the back of her head, her lips painted bright red. The heels on her feet bring her closer to her fiancé's height and the dress she wears looks like something straight off of a runway.

Bella looks nothing like the girl Edward used to know.

He tries to remember the girl that was his best friend, the one that liked to climb trees and run barefoot in the sand. The girl that wore her dad's old flannel shirts and went camping on the weekends. That girl is long gone.

Sighing, Edward retreats to the terrace, hoping the cool night air will help to clear his head. He closes his eyes as a gust of wind picks up, relishing the balmy Chicago air, but there's no peace to be found here amidst the sounds of drunken revelers and beeping car horns. Just as he turns to go back inside, he spots her standing in the doorway, biting her lip as if she's unsure if her presence is welcome.

Despite everything, Edward smiles and holds his hand out, beckoning her forward. She steps toward him, but instead of taking his hand, she wraps her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against the lapel of his jacket.

Moments pass and they stand there wrapped around one another. Finally, Bella pulls back and gives him a polite smile. He grimaces at her in return, wondering why she would even try to pull that Stepford bullshit with him. He watches her smile crumble as she steps away, trying to regain her composure.

"Bella—" he starts, but she cuts him off.

"Don't. Please, not tonight. This is supposed to be a happy occasion."

She smiles again, showing off her perfect, white teeth, but there are tears in her eyes.

"Did you enjoy the food?" she asks, pretending there's no tension or awkwardness between them. "Michael had it flown in special for the party."

"Yes, Bella, the caviar was especially delicious. Did you have some?" he replies, knowing that she hates the stuff.

"All of the food was great," she says, dodging his question.

"Are we really going to do this? Just stand here and pretend like nothing's wrong?" Edward sighs loudly. "How can you live like this, Bella? This isn't you—these people, this party, these clothes," he says, gesturing towards her outfit with his hands.

"You don't know what you're talking about," she whispers.

"I've known you my entire life, Bella. I _know_ you. Come home. Your dad misses you. _I_ miss you."

He sees the immediate change in her demeanor and realizes he's pushed her too far. She stands a little straighter and pushes her shoulders back, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I belong here, with Michael. He loves me."

"But do you love him?"

Her eyes fall to the floor and she turns, slowly walking away.

Edward knows he should go after her, try to make her understand, but he wonders if it's too late, if the girl he knows—the girl he loves—is well and truly gone.

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><p>*Inspired by the song<em> Jealous of the Moon<em> by Nickel Creek. Check it out on youtube if you're feeling especially melancholy. It's one of my favorites.


	2. dread

I don't know why I started writing this in present tense. This one is short because I'm elbows deep in fondant and cake batter for, oddly enough, a wedding cake.

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><p><em>Jealous of the Moon<em>

_Prompt: dread_

Bella stands on the pedestal, staring at herself in the mirror. Yards upon yards of white satin and lace surround her, the skirt of her gown puffed out and swollen like a balloon. She hates everything about it, especially the tiara that the bridal assistant said "completes the look."

"That one is so pretty," her friend Lauren gushes, barely taking time to look up from her phone. Seemingly too busy to make time for her friend, Lauren has been texting furiously since they arrived.

"I'm not sure," Bella hedges.

She's dreaded this day for weeks, put it off for as long as she can, but a church has been chosen and a date has been set. She _has_ to find a dress.

When Bella was a little girl, she didn't dream of a big, fairytale wedding with hundreds of guests and a princess dress. She always imagined getting married on the beach, surrounded by only her closest family and friends. Shoes would be optional and the dress would fit the location. Something casual and comfortable.

This _thing_ most definitely is not.

All of the beading makes the dress heavy, weighing down her small frame. Her figure gets lost in the excess fabric and the bright-white makes her look even more washed-out than usual. Just as she makes the decision to take off the dress and come back another day, her future mother-in-law comes waltzing in.

"Oh, Bella, is that the one? You look beautiful. Oh, it's perfect. Michael will just die when he sees you."

A tear rolls down Bella's cheek and Mrs. Newton mistakes it for a happy display of emotion. Mrs. Newton hugs her tightly and calls for someone from the fitting and alterations department to come and take Bella's measurements.

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><p>Thanks so much for the reviews. :)<p> 


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